S M S
Poetry Sunday (Poem translated into Afrikaans with permission from the Author, Agnes Louis)
Agnes Louis
Oct 27, 2019, · 1 min read
Trail of blazing kisses,
From the base of my skull,
Down to the bottom of my spine.
Delicious heat, the touch of fire,
Trailing inches of my body.
Flipped, and I rose, climbed,
And rose higher.
I am moving to a rhythm, my melody, crescendo.
My grip on your shoulders, your grip on my waist, loosened to a soft touch.
Released, spent,
My head on the curve of your neck.
A smile was playing on your lips, a heart racing in my chest.
“Good morning,”
whispers.
Your voice against mine.
We glowed,
He remained in an embrace.
Saturday. Morning. Sex.
What better way there is to kick-start a weekend?
Author’s note: Riding partner to cloud nine.
A beautiful, lovely, long weekend is here.
S O S
Sondag Gedig
Agnes Louis
Brandende soen, sagte vlees
Van my skedel af,
Tot onderkant my rug.
Heerlike hitte, Aanraking van vuur, soen duim vir duim.
omgekeer,
ek het omgedraai,
hoër geklim, En hoër gelig.
My ligaam ‘n ritme, my melodie,
word ‘n crescendo.
My greep verstyf om jou skouers, Jy hou aan my middel vas,
Los met ‘n sagte aanraking.
skielik was ons leeg, saad vervloei,
My kop rus in die kruin van jou nek. glimlag wat op jou lippe speel,
My hart pols in my bors.
“Goeie more,”
fluister jou stem teen myne.
Ons ligame gloei in omhelsing.
Saterdag oggend. Seks.
Is daar ‘n beter manier, Om ‘n naweek te begin?
Skrywer se nota: My maat na die ewige. Pragtige, lieflike, langnaweek is hier. Translated into Afrikaans: Mattheus Frederik
Pragtige Gedig Agnes
